Cover Art
You told yourself that you would never, ever watch this ACCURSED MOTION PICTURE again, and yet here you are, holding it in your GULLIBLE MITTS for the twentieth or thirtieth time. Why does this keep happening to you? It's not like you consciously lift it from the shelf, drag it to the counter, and rent it, yet here it is.
If there's one thing that sparks IRRATIONAL HATRED and THOUGHTS OF VIOLENCE that threaten to distrupt your otherwise gentle demeanor, it's the thought of this film's DIRECTOR rubbing his filthy hands together and taking sick pleasure in the idea that you, personally, would eventually become subject to his tormented idea of "entertainment" for the rest of your life.
You swear on your MOTHER'S LIFE that he must have made some sort of DARK DEAL that would ensure this UTTER DRECK would make its way into your possession on a regular basis in spite of your attempts to avoid it.
You'll pop this into the VCR if, and only if, you're unlucky enough to descend to new and untold depths of desperation and boredom before the rental is due.